


Dream

by Mochas N Mayhem (KoohiiCafe)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-31
Updated: 2011-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-23 06:52:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoohiiCafe/pseuds/Mochas%20N%20Mayhem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d been having the same dream for months, and he’d been trying to ignore it for just as long; the day the dream changed, Sam knew it was more than just a dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Dream  
>  **Author:**  
>  **Rating:** FR7  
>  **Crossover:** BtVS/SPN  
>  **Disclaimer:** Since I am a poor chickadee with no wealth to speak of, I think it's safe to say that neither BtVS nor Supernatural are mine. ^^;  
>  **Written for:** [TtH](http://www.tthfanfic.org/) [August Fic A Day Challenge](http://twistedshorts.livejournal.com/335952.html)  
>  **Summary:** _He’d been having the same dream for months, and he’d been trying to ignore it for just as long; the day the dream changed, Sam knew it was more than just a dream._  
>  **Author's notes:** Comics? What comics?  >.> Set two years after “Chosen” for BtVS and just before “Pilot” for SPN. Sequel to ‘[Courage](http://archiveofourown.org/works/111022)’

He’d been having the same dream for months, and he’d been trying to ignore it for just as long; her slim body pinned to the ceiling, long blonde hair spread around her like some kind of halo, beautiful eyes staring blindly down, her full lips opened wide in shock and horror- and flames. _Always_ , wreathed in flames, bloodied and still as death. He saw the same thing every night, and in the beginning, every night he woke shouting hoarsely, reaching up as if he could pull her down to him and save her, save her from a fate that haunted his family already.

His roommate Brady, who’d introduced him to her, had teased him the first night about calling out her name in his sleep, until Sam had told him roughly to shut up, then shut him out of the room, and he hadn’t teased him again. Eventually, he’d stopped crying out, and by the time he and Jess moved in together, he’d stopped outwardly reacting to the dreams completely. They never stopped, but he mastered enough control that only someone already awake and watching for it would notice the way his eyes flew open, and his breath huffed out forcefully. Unsuspecting, Jessica was neither of these. She never knew that he saw her die every night, in the same way his own mother had been taken.

The dream haunted him, never missing its nightly opportunity to torment Sam. He wondered if his father had ever gone through something like this, after the death of his mother. Many times, he would wake and his hand would hover over the phone for long minutes, before he forced down the urge to call, and to ask. After all, it was just a dream, and he was too angry, too prideful, to bridge the deep chasm that fell between father and youngest son over something as stupid as a dream. Instead, he pushed the dream away, and every night when he woke, he would pull Jessica’s sleeping form into his arms, hold her tight, and only then fall asleep once more.

The day the dream changed, Sam knew it was more than just a dream.

 _“Oh, so_ you’re _the hunkasaurus Dawn’s been raving about so much, huh?”_

She hung on the ceiling as she always did, but this time it was different; her chest shuddered with breath, eyes wide and blinking with fear and pain written in her gaze. Her mouth moved, but the dream was soundless, for no words came out, and the flame- there was no flame, only a dark, black eyed figure with its hand extended up to the ceiling. Up to _her_. It said something, and Sam could see a cruel smirk on its face, despite the fact that he could not see the face itself, and he wanted to rage. He wanted to run in, to destroy this _thing_ that was destroying the woman he loved, but he was helpless, trapped in the dream, and able to only watch.

 _“_ Buffy _! I- You- I- ignore her, Sam, she doesn’t have a_ clue _what she’s talking about! She doesn’t know when to_ shut her mouth _!”_

 _He_ was helpless, but _she_ wasn’t. She came from out of nowhere, tiny form barreling high speed into the creature’s side and sending it crashing into the nearby wall. Jessica fell from the ceiling instantly, crashing to the bed below her with an expression of shock. And as much as he wanted to run to her and take her in his arms, his attention was forcibly drawn to the fight. To the diminutive little blonde, not much older than he or Jess, who stood fearlessly against one of the things his father had been hunting for over twenty years

_“You’re Dawn’s older sister, right? She’s talked about you; you work at- a boarding school in Cleveland?”_

_“Whatever she said- none of it’s true, I swear. Except for, you know, the school part, where I really do work as one of the councilors. But the rest? I’m no where near the demon sister she probably makes me out to be. That’s more her gig.”_

He wished he could hear what she was saying, the look on her face annoyed as she calmly faced the creature, hands balled into fists that she shoved at her waist. He could feel Jess on the bed, gasping for air, but uninjured, and words flew between the demon and the smaller blonde, some kind of argument going on, and while he couldn’t hear her words, her face told the story; disdain, sarcasm, disgust- superiority and threats- and a single word, clear on her lips. Then the debate was over, and she was launching at the thing again, leg kicking out deadly quick- and it ran, breaking out the window of the bedroom.

_“It’s nice to meet you, Buffy.”_

_“Any friend of Dawnie’s is definitely a friend of mine, so likewise Sam, Jessica.”_

Sam woke in a cold sweat, sitting straight up in bed. Beside him, still fast asleep, Jessica groaned softly and cuddled closer to his form. His breathe came out in short pants as he tried to gather his wits, clinging to the memory of a dream that was similar, but oh so different than one he’d been plagued with for so long, and for the first time since the dreams had started, he felt hope. Overcoming all his anger and pride, Sam crept carefully out of bed, grabbed his phone, and went into the other room to make a call.

“Yeah- it’s me, Dad. I- I need help. Do you know what a ‘slayer’ is?”


End file.
